How weak and dumb do you have to be to not be able to open your gas tank? I ran to the gas station on my lunch break hoping to just put a few drops in so that I could get home tonight safely. I had several errands I was going to run and wanted to make this as quick and painless as possible. I threw some money at the cashier inside and ran back to my car thinking that I'd be out of ther in no time. 15 minutes later I was able to open my gas tank.
Now opening the tank is a fairly simple procedure, right? You push the little lever by the driver's seat and the tiny, hinged door pops open, you unscrew the tank and voila- gasoline can be pumped right into your car. That's not what happened today. I pushed the lever and nothing happened. Pushed it some more, then wedged my key into the tiny slot opening and tried to ply the stupid little door open. Wouldn't budge. I then tried to pump the the little lever then spring back to the door. I tried this 4 or 5 times, but my reflexes must be slowing so I thought I'd just go for the big stretch. I squeezed my toes between the seat and the door jam trying desperately to push the lever with my foot while I balanced on the other leg and reached with one arm toward the gas tank. Scraping my fingernails against the peeling paint I hopped up and down hoping to get enough pressure on the infernal lever. This went on for about 7 minutes. I seriously looked like one of those ballerina hippos out of Fantasia. It was awesome.
Another motorist finally showed up and laughing I asked him if he could help me out. I've never seen a grown man so nervous in my life. He didn't answer, he didn't even smile, he just stared at me looking worried and uncomfortable. I started laughing and explained that I couldn't get my gas tank open and just needed another pair of hands. He nodded silently and walked towards my car. I smiled again, apologized and explained how it just gets a little sticky in the cold. He looked at me pitifully and said, "Well, ok, ok then."
It worked like a charm. I pushed the lever down hard, he simultaneously pushed on the stubborn little hinges and it popped open without any problem. I laughed again thanking him and he backed away from me saying all the while, "well ok then, ok." I wonder if he thought I was crazy or a little dangerous, hmm oh well. I thought it was hilarious.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
Jack Attack
WE'RE HAVING A BOY!!!!!!!!!
Hooray, Hooray, Hooray. We will be naming him Jack and we are as thrilled as thrilled can be. I went in early due to some troubling symptoms and while they were checking on everything else, I asked if we could peek to find out who exactly was causing all this raucous. I realize my baby is only about 6 inches long and 9oz, but he looks so squished in there. His little tiny face was all mashed up by my tummy and his legs are squashed into his torso. (poor little guy) No wonder he gets all irritated when Chuck presses on my belly. It looks really cramped in there. Chuck's trying really hard to feel him, but instead he's just smashing our baby's face into its placenta. I don't see this as a very healthy beginning.
We're half way there and I barely have a tiny little baby bump. I mean I can still wear almost all my clothes and today out of nowhere my coworker came in and said, "Oh you are definitely looking thicker and fuller." I didn't have time to comment before she continued, "yes, you may not have the bump, but you look much fatter today than I've ever seen you." What posesses people to say things like that? She wasn't trying to be rude, she really meant it as a compliment, but c'mon people think a bit before you sputter out comments like that.
We are so happy and excited to meet our little man.
Hooray, Hooray, Hooray. We will be naming him Jack and we are as thrilled as thrilled can be. I went in early due to some troubling symptoms and while they were checking on everything else, I asked if we could peek to find out who exactly was causing all this raucous. I realize my baby is only about 6 inches long and 9oz, but he looks so squished in there. His little tiny face was all mashed up by my tummy and his legs are squashed into his torso. (poor little guy) No wonder he gets all irritated when Chuck presses on my belly. It looks really cramped in there. Chuck's trying really hard to feel him, but instead he's just smashing our baby's face into its placenta. I don't see this as a very healthy beginning.
We're half way there and I barely have a tiny little baby bump. I mean I can still wear almost all my clothes and today out of nowhere my coworker came in and said, "Oh you are definitely looking thicker and fuller." I didn't have time to comment before she continued, "yes, you may not have the bump, but you look much fatter today than I've ever seen you." What posesses people to say things like that? She wasn't trying to be rude, she really meant it as a compliment, but c'mon people think a bit before you sputter out comments like that.
We are so happy and excited to meet our little man.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Hooray, We're Alive!!
You know when the last snow finally starts to melt, the little buds are on the trees and the whole world looks like it's shaking winter off and waking up. I think that's what I am beginning to experience, only I'm more like the big fluffy bear that's ending it's hibernation. I haven't eaten in four months, and dang it I want some food.
I'm just getting over some sort of funk that looked like a cross between the flu and bronchitis, but my taste buds are working, I'm starting to smell things again and best of all I don't feel even remotely close to throwing up. The world is a beautiful place and I am embracing it with arms wide open. (granted I am currently heavily medicated, but let's not put a shadow on my little sunshine)
I don't know if national coverage has covered the storms in the Pacific Northwest, but for those of you who don't know, we've had a few doozies out here. We had about a week of snowy blizzards where people had to seriously park their cars on the freeway and just camp until someone could get them out, then it all melted away and we had hurricane force winds for two days. I'm not even kidding. My mom just refers to it as the "night of terror." I think it has a way better ring to it than the nightly news' "storm of the century, again".
If you haven't had the opportunity to visit my parent's home they live out in the forest off a dirt road in the middle of glorious trees. They are long and leafy and make a very picturesque scene when the light comes through them and rests on the lawn. Unfortunately, they also make a terrifying spectacle when swaying around in the gusts of 75mph wind. My parents spent the night, in the pitch black (power was out for days) listening to limbs and, in a couple of cases, whole trees coming crashing down onto their house. Our tallest tree even uprooted and went completely through the roof of their next door neighbor. It's been completely crazy.
My parents are amazing though. I called to see how they were doing and my mom just said how grateful she was that they were safe and warm and didn't have anything to complain about. They've spent the last 4 days hauling trees off the road, cutting them off their houses, and trying to boil water until their water heater would work, but they never complain. Dad digs in, throws on the flannel shirts and gets to play the part of the lumber jack. My mom even called me the next day to see if I needed help with the Ward Christmas Party I was heading up. Nevermind that her house was in complete upheaval, she just wanted to help me out. I doubt I would have done the same.
They inspire me.
I'm just getting over some sort of funk that looked like a cross between the flu and bronchitis, but my taste buds are working, I'm starting to smell things again and best of all I don't feel even remotely close to throwing up. The world is a beautiful place and I am embracing it with arms wide open. (granted I am currently heavily medicated, but let's not put a shadow on my little sunshine)
I don't know if national coverage has covered the storms in the Pacific Northwest, but for those of you who don't know, we've had a few doozies out here. We had about a week of snowy blizzards where people had to seriously park their cars on the freeway and just camp until someone could get them out, then it all melted away and we had hurricane force winds for two days. I'm not even kidding. My mom just refers to it as the "night of terror." I think it has a way better ring to it than the nightly news' "storm of the century, again".
If you haven't had the opportunity to visit my parent's home they live out in the forest off a dirt road in the middle of glorious trees. They are long and leafy and make a very picturesque scene when the light comes through them and rests on the lawn. Unfortunately, they also make a terrifying spectacle when swaying around in the gusts of 75mph wind. My parents spent the night, in the pitch black (power was out for days) listening to limbs and, in a couple of cases, whole trees coming crashing down onto their house. Our tallest tree even uprooted and went completely through the roof of their next door neighbor. It's been completely crazy.
My parents are amazing though. I called to see how they were doing and my mom just said how grateful she was that they were safe and warm and didn't have anything to complain about. They've spent the last 4 days hauling trees off the road, cutting them off their houses, and trying to boil water until their water heater would work, but they never complain. Dad digs in, throws on the flannel shirts and gets to play the part of the lumber jack. My mom even called me the next day to see if I needed help with the Ward Christmas Party I was heading up. Nevermind that her house was in complete upheaval, she just wanted to help me out. I doubt I would have done the same.
They inspire me.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
I work for the man.
Evidently, I am having, what my doctor is referring to as, an "extreme pregnancy." For those of you who may not be acquainted with the "extreme" this basically means I vomit frequently and have to go to the Emergency Room now and then to replenish my fluids. They've got me on some seriously powerful drugs and if I'm not mistaken it even says in tiny print on the bottle, " Take every six hours as needed for Chemotherapy, Radiation, or Extreme Pregnancies."
Unfortunately this miracle drug (Zofran) is outrageously expensive and my insurance company only allots me 12 pills for every 23 days. Only this month there was some sort of mix up and I got 8 pills for the 23 days. (yes I have been making inquiries and attempting to rectify the situation) But the shortage of pills means that I can take one pill every three days. Day one, I feel marvelous, I can cook, I can clean, I can entertain company, put on roadshows, you name it. Day two- I can shower, dress myself, drive semi-responsibly, smile occasionally and brush my teeth. By the time day three hits, I'm a big scary mess and my mommy has to come over and take care of me.
Anyway, my coworkers are becoming well versed in my medication dosage and have learned when not to stand near the lavatory. ( I think throwing up in public is one of the most humiliating things a grown person can go through ) They are not terribly sympathetic and have started shouting things like, "you should just keep a bucket at your desk, that way you won't have to leave your station all the time." So my boss came in this morning (day two) and asked how I was doing. I told him I was a little shaky but was doing ok for the most part. He shook his head as he started to walk away, then stopped and came back to my desk to impart a little of his hard earned wisdom.
"You know it's all just in your head, don't you?"
"Excuse me?"
"It's just in your head. Oh, I'm sick, I have to throw up, I can't work. It's in your head."
"Trade places with me Joe, and let's just see how much control you'd have over your gag reflex."
"Yeah, yeah, you just think you're supposed to be sick, so you think you are and your body reacts. That's all."
He walked away up to his office and I sat there marinating in his comment for a few minutes. What's wrong with people? Yeah, my brain prefers this throw up coupled with pumped in saline solution to a happy life of food digestion. I stopped by his office a little while later and smiling said, "Hey Joe, just a head's up, telling a sick pregnant woman that it's all in her head creates hostility, bitterness and eventually violence, oh and your shipment of carpet samples isn't coming in today. Buh bye." Somebody should punch him in the throat. That's what I have to say.
Unfortunately this miracle drug (Zofran) is outrageously expensive and my insurance company only allots me 12 pills for every 23 days. Only this month there was some sort of mix up and I got 8 pills for the 23 days. (yes I have been making inquiries and attempting to rectify the situation) But the shortage of pills means that I can take one pill every three days. Day one, I feel marvelous, I can cook, I can clean, I can entertain company, put on roadshows, you name it. Day two- I can shower, dress myself, drive semi-responsibly, smile occasionally and brush my teeth. By the time day three hits, I'm a big scary mess and my mommy has to come over and take care of me.
Anyway, my coworkers are becoming well versed in my medication dosage and have learned when not to stand near the lavatory. ( I think throwing up in public is one of the most humiliating things a grown person can go through ) They are not terribly sympathetic and have started shouting things like, "you should just keep a bucket at your desk, that way you won't have to leave your station all the time." So my boss came in this morning (day two) and asked how I was doing. I told him I was a little shaky but was doing ok for the most part. He shook his head as he started to walk away, then stopped and came back to my desk to impart a little of his hard earned wisdom.
"You know it's all just in your head, don't you?"
"Excuse me?"
"It's just in your head. Oh, I'm sick, I have to throw up, I can't work. It's in your head."
"Trade places with me Joe, and let's just see how much control you'd have over your gag reflex."
"Yeah, yeah, you just think you're supposed to be sick, so you think you are and your body reacts. That's all."
He walked away up to his office and I sat there marinating in his comment for a few minutes. What's wrong with people? Yeah, my brain prefers this throw up coupled with pumped in saline solution to a happy life of food digestion. I stopped by his office a little while later and smiling said, "Hey Joe, just a head's up, telling a sick pregnant woman that it's all in her head creates hostility, bitterness and eventually violence, oh and your shipment of carpet samples isn't coming in today. Buh bye." Somebody should punch him in the throat. That's what I have to say.
Friday, November 17, 2006
I have arrived
Once upon a time there was little girl named Mayhem. Mayhem lived a life of happy turmoil until she was swallowed up by a giant sea slug never to be heard from again. Tragic Really- but she's gone now and I am here to take her place.
I am newly married, newly pregnant and have lately made a lot silly observations that I can't help but share. Please feel free to comment as you will. I look forward to hearing from you.
I am newly married, newly pregnant and have lately made a lot silly observations that I can't help but share. Please feel free to comment as you will. I look forward to hearing from you.
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